


A Semblance of Control

by ravensingsfire (orphan_account)



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Paragon Commander Shepard, post control ending, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 21:33:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8301910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ravensingsfire
Summary: Garrus lost his way after the Battle for Earth. His mate was gone, his life was gone, and now the Reapers were back "to help". All he wanted was Shepard back.





	1. The Catalyst Insists

**Author's Note:**

> This was made out of anger. I finally finished ME3 (four years late) and felt that my SO was given no closure. So I hijacked the Control Ending and went for it. Beware of errors in continuity, spelling, grammar, and character. If anyone wants to edit future chapters, you can. Don't know how many chapters I'll make.

Garrus Vakarian had taken to living alone. No one argued with him anymore. It had been three years since Janine Shepard had entered the Crucible; three years since he lost his mate. Archangel had helped his people rebuild before retreating to a dark corner of Palaven to lick his wounds. Joker and EDI sent him comms daily back then. 

“It’s the damnedest thing,” the pilot commented one time. “One minute they are flying away and then suddenly they are landing back onto Earth and offering to help rebuild. Something about having a new purpose. It’s…Garrus, it’s like Shepard is leading them. Crazy I know, but EDI just came back and, well you know she’s made out of Reaper tech, and she said something to the effect of the Reapers have a new catalyst.”

The turian listened to that one message at least once a day. Shepard had been the biggest influence in his life. He was still young for a turian, but after meeting with Shepard, after being with Janine, he couldn’t imagine his life without her. He had gone rogue once already when he thought she was dead. She had even brought him back from that. Why couldn’t she bring him back from this? 

Three years. 

The Hierarchy had contacted him about a week ago. He had been promoted to an empty title and he was needed at the Citadel in a few months. He didn’t think he would make it. Tali had already sent a message saying she would meet him at a dextro sushi place, her treat, if he would just come out of hiding. 

“I can’t do it, Janine,” he whispered in the darkness of his home. “I can’t go back there.” He ran a clawed hand over his scarred face. It was bare. He hadn’t put on his face paint since he left civilization though the jar stayed by his bed. He patted the soft sheets. They were black, the color of her hair. That’s why he had ordered them. 

It was the little things like that around the house that kept him sane. An Earth geode that Kaiden had sent him that was the exact shade of purple as her eyes. The biotic had attached a note explaining how to open the unassuming stone and reveal the color. A soft porcelain curtain from Thessia. Liara had sprayed it with the perfume Shepard would put on after missions. And many other knickknacks from around the galaxy, collected and sent to him by the team in their respects and memories of Shepard. 

He stood and walked over to the delicate cloth that still smelt of his mate’s perfume, handling it with extreme care so his talons wouldn’t rip the curtain. There was the boom of a landing Reaper outside that nearly made him jump. He steeled himself though after the impact and reached for his sniper rifle. While the Reapers had been peaceful with them, Garrus still didn’t trust them. He moved slowly through the small house, opening the door to the Marauder who was about to knock.   
“For the last time, I do not want you here!” he shouted at the Sovereign-class on his lawn. “We have made peace. Stop trying to integrate here.”

The massive ship turned to face him, settling into the rock just beyond the grass knoll where Garrus had moved. Beyond it was the waterfall and chasm that separated him from the rest of the Turian Hierarchy. 

“Primarch Vakarian,” the metallic voice spoke, coming from the massive ship. “The Catalyst insists I stay here.”

“The Catalyst has no say on my land, Harbinger,” the turian said stubbornly. “And I do not use that title.”

“The Catalyst insists.”

Garrus growled in disapproval while his bare mandibles fluttered. He stomped onto his porch, feeling suddenly like an old general yelling at the children. “And what would the Catalyst care if I blasted you off my lawn right now?” he demanded. “What does the Catalyst need with me being watched by a Reaper who nearly killed my mate?”

“The Catalyst insists Vakarian returns to the Citadel before the memorial service in three months’ time.”

“Oh so the Reaper’s master wants to control me now?” he demanded indignantly. 

“It concerns Shepard’s body.”

That had stopped Garrus’s pacing. The reluctant Primarch turned to face the Reaper who was already preparing to take flight again. “Shepard’s body?” he asked, mandibles fluttering again, though it was in curiosity this time. 

“Sometime between now and the memorial. Look in the Tower. The Catalyst insists,” Harbinger intoned one last time and took flight back towards the Capital where they were still rebuilding.


	2. The Catalyst Knows

Darkness.

All she could feel was a cold darkness.

Her body had been decimated once she took control, integrated into what made the Reapers. Janine Shepard was truly dead.

“But if that were true, why do I feel at all?”

Her voice both echoed and was silent. She could feel a million processes converged to answer her question. She wondered if this was what it had been like for Legion. He spoke for the Geth, heard all the geth at once, felt all the geth. And now she did the same for the Reapers.

Consensus came back staggered. Life after death? The reality of the Void? The presence of a human god? Cold reality of AI? Return of conscience?

The last made the other processes pause. Shepard’s own process stopped as well.

Return of conscience.

In a wave, all linked platforms converged on the idea. Shepard’s organic body had been recovered by the Reapers when they had returned the Citadel to its rightful place. It had been placed in the Crucible where no Organic could reach so it may be repaired for future use.

Return of conscience.

“Is this possible?”

Yes? No? Tests would have to be run, Catalyst. Probability high. Probability low. Consensus cannot be reached.

She saw her body through the eyes of a Husk guarding her. Its chest rose and fell with each aided breath. It had not done that before.

“Harbinger.”

“Yes, Catalyst. I have already notified Vakarian. He would not allow me to stay.” The second voice was foreign. The same voice as Leviathan. Deep. Internal.

“Will he come?”

“He is an unknown.”

Memories flowed through her, aided by the memories of the Reapers. Emotions too. Love. Why she took control. She allowed the Reapers to take in these thoughts with her, watched as a few stopped their work to process though she lightly chastised those back into working. There were other platforms that could review the information that were not being watched by the Organics who were jumpy at best when it came to the Reapers.

Consensus was made.

“I will return to my body,” she spoke softly. She felt unused lips move as well as her mind broadcasted the decision. “But I will remain linked mentally with all units. “I will be their representatives to the Organics.”

A tight feeling. Pain in her abused throat. It would take time for her to develop her body once more. Violet eyes opened to blinding light above. She saw the room where she was encased as well as all the worlds where the Reapers were stationed. All at once.

“My body is synthetic but organic,” she noted dryly to the Husk guards. “Find me water and sustenance. The Catalyst insists.”

A million voices repeated her last three words in agreement. The Catalyst insists so it must be done.

She closed her eyes to rest the body once more and return to the minds of the Reapers. There was a brush at the edge of their consciousness. Something familiar yet foreign.

Geth.

She opened their mind to them, examining their findings and concerns on Rannoch as well as the few acting as representatives on the Citadel. They had only revealed her presence slightly, stating that the Catalyst was acting as the Reaper’s conscience but nothing more.

The Geth understood her need for secrecy.

“Garrus Vakarian has booked a space flight back to the Citadel,” their voice rang out through their conjoined minds. “He will be staying in Shepard-Commander’s former quarters.” There was a pause, hesitation. “He has inquired for the Geth to aid him in searching for her body.”

Silence.

The Reapers waited for the Catalyst to react. She had called him to the Citadel after all. It would be her choice what was to be done.

“Lead him to the door. Let him find the way in himself. Let him wake Shepard,” said the Reapers and the Catalyst all as one.

There was silence. Then agreement. Then the presence of the Geth melted away.

“I will not be as he remembers,” she lamented to the remaining intellect. A sigh released from the connected body, and she felt its pain, sorrow, longing, love, hunger, regret…emotions. No she would not be as Garrus remembered her, but she was still the woman he loved. She was no longer human, she was something more, but she was not completely lost in her synthetic thoughts.

“The Catalyst knows the pain of Organics,” several processes noted en masse. “And the Catalyst knows the purpose of Synthetics. Perhaps he will see that, and accept the Catalyst as it is.”

“As I am…” Janine said with a soft smile. Already her decision to reintegrate was causing reactions outside the minds of her Reapers. “Am I wrong to love?”

Yes? No? To love is to be organic. No consensus. At least, for the Reapers.


End file.
